


falling tower

by ephemeral_fallacy



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff with a Sad Ending, M/M, Mention of sex, a half happy AU, but not really because, hahahahahhaa, i told you guys i would be writing fluff but uhhh, nnaahhh nevermind, omg pain, writing this was also pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:58:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeral_fallacy/pseuds/ephemeral_fallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They believe his love is artificial and he begs to differ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling tower

**Author's Note:**

> i lied about writing fluff  
> i cant think of anything except angst, angst, and more angst  
> i dont own tokyo ghoul or else i wouldve done the happy thing to everyone u kno yyeah

“Wake up, _magnifique_ Kaneki-kun,” Tsukiyama Shuu sings, his voice velvety and bright in the morning sun. “Crafted just for you, breakfast, to your desire.”

The bed only twitches and the purple-haired ghoul stands with a half-impatient, half-amused expression.

“Tsukiyama, you know it’s 6AM, right.” Kaneki’s groggy, rough voice slips from under the rustling covers and the man only smiles wider at the annoyed tone in the boy’s voice. Instead of replying, Tsukiyama shuffles elegantly towards the bed, and in one fell swoop, pulls the covers off the poor boy, who immediately growls loudly and sits upright.

“Tsukiyama-”

The purplette interrupts his lover with a sudden kiss on the cheek and watches with pleasure as Kaneki colors. No matter what color his hair is, he will always color in the cheek, and then it will spread to his ears. No matter what he turns into, there will be his own essence within his body, and Tsukiyama has learned this.

“Are you awake, now?” The ghoul clasps Kaneki’s hands together and pulls him up, refraining from twirling the poor, still drowsy, boy around him.

“Let us eat,”

And Kaneki has no qualms, as his right eye bleeds black and red.

 

* * *

 

“ _Dolce_ ,” Tsukiyama murmurs greasily, his eyes bright as he watches Kaneki dine on the catch he brought him. “How is it? Is it to your liking?”

Kaneki grunts and his reply causes blood to run down the side of his mouth as he delicately tries not to make a mess of the already messy kitchen. _There’s blood on the walls, dried blood on the floor, a little intestine on the refrigerator door, Tsukiyama will need to clean up well to get rid of the salty smell._

“I’m glad I can be of service to you, Kaneki-kun…”

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, they spar and it’s the only time their blood runs hot and pumps blinding noise into their ears; it’s the only time they can really let go and go all out. Except Kaneki always holds back, _he’s much too strong and he could, quite easily, rip Tsukiyama apart, if he wished._

When their sweat runs down their faces and bruises cover their bodies, perhaps then, they would stop to catch their breath. Kaneki’s eye would fluctuate, then dissolve into a white and dark brown again, and Tsukiyama’s haggard breaths would slowly even out.

But even then, their adrenaline would never _cease_.

Another round, Kaneki demands, and Tsukiyama relents, allowing his body to take another beating.

It feels good, being used.

It feels like he’s useful, that Kaneki _needs_ him.

“ _C’est vrai,_ Kaneki-kun, as powerful as always,” he would whisper and collapse on the ground as he loses his strength to continue.

Kaneki’s strong hands would always bring him back up, prop him against the wall, and his dark eyes would stare into his and sometimes, they would share a sweet moment. Only sometimes. Because it would be times like these when Kaneki can’t hold himself back, when his ghoul side tears past that human wall and the one-eyed ghoul uses the battered doll of Tsukiyama’s body as a pleasure toy.

It’s not as if he minds.

_“Kaneki-kun can use me however he pleases…”_

 

* * *

 

There are tender moments where Tsukiyama does not want to taste Kaneki, although he really would like to. Kaneki does let him; occasionally, if he’s overly weak after sparring, Tsukiyama gets the taste of a pinky, or a flood of blood in his mouth.

He’s always careful not to let a drop go to waste, even if it means licking the ground and worshipping the ground his lover walks on.

Tsukiyama simply worships Kaneki, from the bottom of his heart.

He hopes Kaneki understands that, as he presses a chaste kiss to his forehead and leaves the room, leaving nothing but the faint scent of cologne and love.

 

* * *

 

It’s a shame they can’t shop together, like the couples on TV. It’s a shame they’d be criticized if they held hands outside, and even if they can’t do that, it’s still uncomfortable for Kaneki to show Tsukiyama affection outside of sex. He has never really initiated the kisses. The television flickers again and with a discomforted sigh, Tsukiyama turns off the TV.

“Kaneki-kun?” He calls, and from the other room, Kaneki calls back, “Yeah?”

The purple-haired ghoul doesn’t say anything. He just walks to the room where the white-haired boy is busy with his own tasks. Everyday menial tasks, something a husband, or a wife, would do.

What are they, anyway?

Kaneki stands up, his eyes shielded but concerned, staring at the slightly limp Tsukiyama in front of him.

“Tsukiyama, are you alright?” His eyebrows crease and he takes a step forward, but yelps when the purple-haired ghoul almost crushes him in a hug. Kaneki’s heart is beating fast, his eyes are wide, and his nose is deeply buried in a crisp suit that smells like familiar scenes and warmth. His words are muffled, so he chooses to stop speaking, it’s not as if Tsukiyama can hear him, anyway.

“What am I to you, Kaneki-kun?” The gourmet whispers after a moment, and Kaneki hears his heart thudding in his right ear, now his left, right ear, _both_ ears.

He unwraps his arms from Tsukiyama and despite his shorter height, Kaneki stares at him, drinking in the pale skin and the surprisingly deep, purple eyes, the perfect hairstyle, and the half heart-broken line etched deeply on the ghoul’s lips.

“I don’t know,” Kaneki replies and Tsukiyama’s heart sinks, but he manages to catch the next words that slip out of his lover’s mouth as he presses a kiss against his mouth.

_“But I can’t live without you…”_

 

* * *

 

Tsukiyama wakes up with a start, sweat plastering his hair to his head, his hands trembling and his lip quivering. He feels his cheeks, _wet, wet with tears_ , and he remembers the vivid dreams that passed through his mind.

_They were dreams. dreams, fleeting, ephemeral, like Kaneki._

And just like that, his entire world falls apart, yet again, finally realizing that the world is cruel to everyone, a chess board flipped and all of the pieces spread on the hardwood floor. A tower of blocks dropping all over the table, stunned fingers that have so carefully crafted it still and frozen.

_Ah, yes, Kaneki-kun is dead, isn’t he?_

The black briefcase shimmers in his mind as he falls to the ground, his head slamming on tile with a painfully loud thump, but he doesn’t feel the pain. Not there, not the pain throbbing in his head because that’s gone the second it comes, _he’s a ghoul, nothing should hurt..._ Tsukiyama feels the pain in his heart, an organ that a ghoul, made for killing, made for the eat-or-be-eaten world, shouldn’t _have_.

It manifests as a monster clawing at his chest, choking him of air he should be breathing, disabling the very use of his limbs. Tsukiyama scratches at the ground, the tears pouring out of his tightly closed eyes, his eyebrows knotted, trying to remember the smile that Kaneki last gave him. It was sad,  _he knew he was going and that his mission was futile, why, why did you leave_

_Pain, pain, is this what a lost love feels like… stringendo…_

 

* * *

 

Banjou has asked Tsukiyama once, what his fantasies with Kaneki were, and he is shocked by the answer that comes forth the Gourmet’s mouth.

“If you had a future with Kaneki-kun, what would you want it to be?”

 Tsukiyama barely ponders, before answering, his voice oddly quavering in the middle, “ _I would like to wake up to see his face, **once more**_.”

 

* * *

 

**non...**

**i shall continue this illusion until one day, my last breath is drawn**   
**for i cannot bear the pain you have caused me, Kaneki-kun**

**Author's Note:**

> //gross sobbing  
> im so sorry  
> i think ill go rot away nnnow   
> //slinks into distance and melts into a puddle of feels


End file.
